Are you kidding me?
by Plumpromises
Summary: Taking place in some nebulous time-frame between Avenger's Ultron and Civil War, this is a one-shot (at the moment) of Darcy's unfortunate first encounter with Captain America. Let's just say it takes place in a bathroom and it isn't sexy, not even a little. It couldn't possibly get any worse than this though. Right?


**Foreword****:** So, forewarning, there is LITERAL bathroom humor here. Nothing too gross or graphic, but if you're squeamish about this kind of thing you might want to pass.

The idea hit me and I just had to run with it.

* * *

"Are you kidding me."

Darcy stared at the last two squares of 1-ply toilet paper hanging from her fingers. She looked to the roll then, just to make sure, and the empty cardboard tube stared back, unashamed at having failed at it's only task in life.

But she wasn't without hope. Not yet.

Okay sure, Tony was a cheap bastard and couldn't be bothered to stock his new science labs with the premium stuff. And yeah, she was fresh out of lady-products for the surprise visit from Aunt Irma that was probably partially to blame for this emergency visit to the loo. And whatever, if her stomach wanted to raze itself down then she could deal with it, she was a big girl.

There were still options.

She gave the toilet another courtesy flush and scoured the small room as she looked for alternative storage spaces. There had to be something, right? This was a public bathroom for god's sake and nobody was dumb enough to only stock a single roll of toilet paper.

She got a flash of hope when she spotted the basket wedged between the wall and the base of the john, but all that was in there were a few magazines and a rolled up wad of paper that might have covered the empty roll now hanging limp on the wall. The sink had no cabinets beneath it, and instead of real paper towels, Stark had some kind of prim-and-proper fancy-ass towel hanging from a loop beside the sink. It was smooth and looked distinctly decorative (read: anti-absorbent), and to top it all off the damn thing was monogrammed with a giant letter ** S **. In red.

1-ply paper and this dude was hanging monogrammed towels like he was some fancy-pants-prince.

"Are you _fucking _ kidding me!" Darcy groaned this time and slouched forward, burying her face in her hands as she leaned against her knees.

She stayed that way for a second, took a breath, then straightened and plucked her phone out from between her breasts. All was not lost. Jane was in the building somewhere and Jane would—or at least she damned well better!—come to her rescue. Darcy had done this for_ her _in the past; so this was just payback. A returning of favors. That meant it was binding and Jane couldn't refuse her cry for help.

She sent out her S.O.S. in a text message.

' _Sorta kinda_ _got a little emergency Jane ,' _she started. '_And by little I mean big. I'm in the bathroom and out of toilet paper. Also the Nile decided to run red today and I lent my emergency tampon to Gloria in HR yesterday. Send help! And by help I mean you. Come, please, rescue me. Help me Obi-Jane Kenobi, you're my only hope.' _

Darcy hit send and waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

In fact, her feet were starting to go numb and her ass wasn't feeling much better. She closed the video she'd been watching and checked the time. Fifteen minutes. Any longer and she'd need a damn shower after this and why the hell had she let Jane pick their place for lunch—tacos from questionable places during business hours were like a giant no-no. Or at least, going forward they were. Desperate, she sent another text.

_Jane this is serious! I need TP and tampons and I would totes do this for you! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease! I'm on floor 8 cause the new intern was using ours and there are no other bathrooms nearby that I can crab-walk to without taking an elevator. HELP! _

She hit send, but after five more minutes and a straight-to-voicemail phone call she gave up. With a heavy sigh, still unwilling to accept that she might have to pull up her underwear in this sorry state and risk bleeding through on top of it, she did last thing she could.

"Is anybody out there?" She called loudly, hopeful that one of the builders or something might be around to hear her pleading.

It was a new Stark Labs™ facility, the first of three apparently for some of their more dangerous projects, and while this—and other floors—were still under construction, there were still people milling around as they set up their new offices and laboratories and whatnot. _ Somebody _ had to be around dammit. And by somebody she was _really_ hoping for one of the sweet little lab ladies running around who would totally understand her dilemma and have what she needed on hand.

"Anyone? Please help! Please, please, please! Seriously, I am _so _desperate right now, and this totally sucks, and it isn't right, and I will kill Tony after this I swear but please, if anyone can hear me, I need immediate assistance. Like now. Would be great." After a prolonged period of nobody coming to help, she all but whisper-whined, "anyone?"

Darcy bowed her head and took a deep breath. This was it. She'd have to pull up her panties and walk-of-shame her ass out of the building, out to her car, sit on top of her favorite jacket to avoid getting her seat all gross, then hobble up the stairs to her apartment and have a shower beer because goddammit she would deserve one after all that, 5 o'clock or not.

As she was talking herself up to it though, knuckles rapped lightly on the door and her heart skip a beat with unrepentant joy.

"Oh. Em. Gee. Thank fucking god—Jane, that you?" She called out.

There was no immediate answer, but she heard a throat clear, and then, in the most uncomfortable voice imaginable came,

"Ma'am, are you alright in there?" The voice was not Jane's voice, or any woman's for that matter.

It belonged to a man. And of course it did. The universe clearly hated Darcy Lewis today.

Still, she didn't care; desperate times, desperate measures. This wasn't ideal, but she was far from bashful and it wasn't like anyone was ignorant to bodily functions. Plus, this was a new facility so who cared what these dweebs thought about her. She'd be running them in no time, poor first impressions or not. And hell, maybe having no shame would work to her advantage in the long run if she could just impress upon this dude that she was hardly bothered by this turn of events.

"Uh yeah, I'm okay, broadly speaking at least." She called out. "But also, totally not really. Kinda missing an essential ingredient in here and also having a bit of a code red, if ya catch my drift."

"Code red?" He sounded concerned.

"Yeah you know, of the lady bits." She offered, wondering if he would really need her to spell it out.

"I—" he paused. "Oh. Right. Is there uh, another bathroom around here? Or somebody I can go get for you?"

"There's a bathroom on every floor, so yeah, just pick one, I guess. But really Jane Foster is top choice, if you can find her. She isn't answering her phone and I'm just gonna freaking kill her, seriously I am, but only after she fulfills her unbreakable vow 'cause this is so not right after all I do for her. Or really, just grab any woman you find and tell her that the red river runneth over for some damsel in distress. They'll understand."

"Right. I'll send some help. Just hang tight."

"Yep. Not going anywhere. And hey, thanks man, you're a total life saver and I will so owe you after this."

There was only silence in response, and all Darcy could do then was wait for whatever rescue this stranger could wrangle up. One minute passed, then two, then four, and that renewed hope was starting to feel a little wobbly. She sent another text to Jane threatening life and limb, tried to call her again without luck, and was just starting to talk herself back into pulling up her pants when another knock on the door jostled her out of the awful musings.

"Ma'am?" Came the same voice from before.

"Yep. Still here." She answered. "Couldn't find any lab ladies?"

"They apparently had to evacuate the facility." He answered back. "Some piece of equipment is unstable on floor four."

Darcy's eyes widened in surprise.

"Evacuate? Are you _kidding _me? Where the hell are the alarms and the flashy-flashy strobes that go all red when shit goes down?"

"Not installed yet. Security wouldn't let any of the scientists back in, but Jane was outside. She forgot her phone in her purse, but she said I could find what you needed in there, and I swung by another bathroom on the way up."

"Great." Darcy sighed. "Right well, I guess, uh, you'll just have to..." she let the sentence hang, and when he didn't say anything she added. "You know..."

Neither of them spoke for a moment, and just when Darcy thought that maybe her rescuer was getting cold feet, she saw the door handle pull down. It was locked of course so it just bounced back up, and she could hear the frustrated sigh on the other side of the door mirror her own. She'd forgotten about that little obstacle.

"Sorry dude." She said, feeling like this would definitely be a two or three shower beers kind of day. "Was so not expecting Stark to skimp out like this and I just—I got nothing. You know what? Fuck it. I'm just gonna die here on the toilet. Okay? So just tell Jane she can have that fuzzy housecoat of mine that she loves, but only if she takes care of my turtle too and that means no pawning him off on Thor. They can send in an excavation team after the building blows to pull me out, but like, please tell everyone I died on my feet. I can't go down like Elvis man, it's not right."

"Here's what's going to happen." The man said, speaking far more calmly than she was feeling now that she knew there was a potential bomb several floors below. "I'm going to close my eyes, break down the door, then just throw this stuff in there with you. That okay?"

Darcy snorted, finding hilarity—despite the now _literally _potential life or death situation—at the boy scout's bashfulness and the fact that he thought throwing toiletries at a woman in distress was a good call. But fair enough. Time was short, and in spite of everything she didn't exactly want to be seen in this state either.

"You really think you can bust down the door?" She asked, worried that she'd have to watch it shudder several times as some skinny lab assistant tried to play Hulk only for both of them to be disappointed in the end.

She heard a low chuckle and could picture somebody nodding their head on the other side, pumping themselves up for the imminent collision, maybe even flexing their muscles as they told themselves 'I can totally do this.'

"Shield your eyes," he warned.

And before she could even register the ridiculousness of what he said, there was a resounding bang and then a loud crack.

Darcy flinched at the sound and ducked her head beneath an arm on instinct alone, the door flying forward with a swift swing to slam against the neighboring wall. The sound of smashing ceramic followed suit as the knob slammed against decorative tiles, a few shards tinkling to the floor in the pause of silent shock that came after, the door rebounding a little but thudding quietly against a boot that now stood in the way.

A second later Darcy opened an eye to assess the damage, all the blood draining from her face at the sight.

_Oh no._

Captain. Fucking. America.

He stood in the doorway like some goddamn Adonis, shoulders broad beneath the tight white t-shirt stretched across his torso, jeans fit snug like they were tailored just to promote his perfect back end. It was a nightmare and a daydream all rolled into one, the daydream aspect pretty damn obvious as he came to her rescue in all his lab-grown glory, but tinged by the horrible situation of this first meeting and the hilarious fact that he was standing there, eyes squeezed shut while he gripped a roll of toilet paper in one hand and Jane's handbag in the other.

"You have_ got_ to be fucking kidding me." She blurted, the universe's sense of humor so beyond her at that moment.

She must have really pissed somebody off in a past life.

"Is everything—" he started, and before he could even begin to consider the notion of opening his eyes to check on her, she screeched.

"No don't look! I'm fine! It's cool! But do not, under any circumstance, open your eyes!"

"I won't." He promised, lifting his arms up like she was training a gun on him to make sure he kept his word.

"Good." She said, suddenly grateful that he _was_ such a boy scout cause the last thing she needed in her life—in _any _life—was Captain Fucking America seeing her pants down, stuck on the toilet. "Good. Just, take like, two steps forward, set the stuff down, and we're good."

He nodded and did as she asked, his two steps bringing him much closer than she anticipated, but he was ever the gentleman. Without cracking a single peek, Rogers set the items down on the floor, then took two steps backwards again. He stood there in the doorway for a moment, looking indecisive before asking,

"Is there anything else you need before I go?"

"Yeah a cyanide pill," she muttered, and then, after catching his responding half-smile she answered for real. "Nah I'm good. But seriously, like, I can't thank you enough for this. I've been sitting here for half a freaking hour and I am having_ all_ the shower beers after this. So many."

"Right, well. I'll leave you to it then." He reached out blindly for the door, and after Darcy guided him "a little to the left," he managed to grab hold and pull it closed.

Alone at last, Darcy stretched forward for her treasures, so thankful for the baby wipes she'd stashed in Jane's purse ages ago. Sure, they were meant for her scientist's sticky post-lunch fingers, but damned if they weren't a sight for sore eyes after this. She wouldn't have to go home early after all, but then again, if the building had been evacuated, they might not be allowed to come back for twenty-four hours anyway. That was pretty standard operating procedure for experimental equipment failures after they'd sent poor Labtech Tim straight to Odin's throne room that one time. So, depending on the type of failure, she could easily be looking at an afternoon of hiding this memory at the bottom of a bottle or ten.

Cleaned up and feeling better than she had in the last hour, Darcy washed her hands, splashing a little water on her face for good measure. The whole encounter with a historical icon and famous Avenger whilst in the midst of a personal crisis had made her sweat more than just a little. In fact, just thinking of it again made her mortified all over, and she was suddenly beyond happy that he'd never opened his eyes.

If she was lucky, they'd never run into one another again, never mind why he was even in this building in the first place. Probably just a strange fluke. But, even if it wasn't, maybe he wouldn't recognize her voice even if they_ did _run into one another again. Not like she'd monologued at him or anything, though she did probably babble more than was strictly necessary. She couldn't even remember what she'd said anymore, but either way, the chances of her running into Captain America again were slim to zilch.

With that settled and her mind a little more at ease, Darcy got to debating about beer. She'd have to stop by a store on her way home. What brand to buy was the question. Day like this probably called for some Double IPAs. So many choices though...

She was still deciding what to pick up when she walked out of the bathroom, so when she turned left straight out of the door, heading for the stairwell, she was startled into a backwards stumble and surprised gasp when her face almost met with a huge bicep. She had enough time to register a white shirt sleeve as a hand reached out, not to quite touch her, but more in surprise of its own. Her eyes flew up to see a familiar face, and she could immediately feel her cheeks burst into flame.

"What the hell?" She blurted before she could stop herself, finally getting hit with the full indignation of her circumstances, her embarrassment so high she wasn't sure there was a word for the level it'd reached. If she was lucky she'd literally immolate in the next second. "What are you—?"

"They asked me to make sure you made it out safely!" He rushed to explain as if she'd just accused him of something untoward, and yeah okay, maybe she was because dude had seriously been standing outside the bathroom while she finished her business and,_ oh my god, _had she been humming the Powerpuff Girl's theme song out loud while washing her hands and face? "That's all."

She swallowed down the knot of humiliation resting in her throat and gave a stiff nod, pulling herself together and putting on her 'take shit from no one' face that she typically reserved for people giving her lip. She crossed her arms then, glanced off to the side because making eye contact was just too horrifying to contemplate, then waved her arm forward to indicate that he should lead the way.

"Yeah okay," she said. "Let's go."

Neither spoke another word on their way out the building, and when they finally reached the front doors, Darcy could feel her stride speed up in her rush to put as much distance between her and this whole situation as possible. She seriously couldn't get away from him fast enough. As the warm afternoon sun hit her face, she was made all the more conscious of the sweat soaking into her bra from the forever-long march at Captain America's side. Just one more embarrassment for the road. Once they hit the pavement she all but sprinted away, over to Jane who was waiting against her car.

"Can you believe they're sending us home?" Jane asked as soon as she was close enough, making her way to the passenger side as Darcy unlocked. "As if telemeters are even dangerous."

They both got in and continued talking.

"The telemeters? Wait. Weren't those modified to survive deep space though?" Darcy asked. "_ And _fit with a self-destruct mechanism so like, aliens couldn't trace the signal back to Earth or something?"

"They're_ not _unstable though, at least not if people quit dropping them." Jane insisted, buckling up. "Oh, do you have my—"

"Yes." Darcy passed the purse over and buckled as well. "And no, I so don't want to talk about anything that happened in the last hour."

Jane grinned.

"But you should have seen how bad he was blushing when he came to get me and explain everything. I don't think I've ever seen a man get so pink. _The red river runneth over. _" She laughed. "I can't believe you said that to Captain America."

"Yeah you and me both."

The two women looked at one another then, and just like that they fell into howls of laughter over the whole ordeal. They sat there in the car for several minutes until they'd gotten their cackles under control, and finally Darcy wiped away the tears from her eyes and shook her head, starting the car.

"I'm going home and having a mess of beers. You wanna come?"

"Only if you give me a full record of what happened."

"Lemme get like, three drinks in me and you're on."

The pair drove off and Jane changed the subject to her interrupted experiments.

As she prattled on in fluctuating waves of excitement and annoyance, Darcy nodded and hummed at the appropriate times while her mind drifted elsewhere. Okay so this was probably the worst first impression she'd ever survived in her entire life, but at least she had the comfort of knowing he'd been embarrassed by it all too. She wondered what he'd sounded like asking for Jane's help. It was probably ridiculously adorable, and as much as she would have liked to see more of his face, she really hoped it would strictly be from the other side of a television screen from now on. They practically lived in different worlds, or at least, adjacent worlds, so she did at least have some comfort in the knowledge that a second encounter was unlikely.

There was still the question of what he'd been doing there in the first place, but unbeknownst to Darcy, his reasons for being there wouldn't matter too much in the end because the universe just wasn't done fucking with her yet. Little did she know that her second encounter with the Captain would be even more embarrassing than the first, something she'd have been hard pressed to even consider after the day she'd just had.

To be continued...?

* * *

**Author's Note:** So yeah, lemme know what you think. If this gets a good reception (and maybe even if it doesn't), I have some other ideas of other embarrassing encounters I'd like to play out between these two that would take place after this one, and I'm thinking it could be like a series of these kinda one-shots that might build to a finale or something. Not thinking that far ahead really, so this is basically a one-shot for now, even though I have additional ideas.


End file.
